


Arrow: Alternate Universe

by BlakStag07



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakStag07/pseuds/BlakStag07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - After five years on a hellish island, Oliver comes home with only one goal: to save his city - and he finds out early on that he can't do it alone. He may soon come to regret his decision. This is Arrow with a twist in the form of a gun-toting, bike-riding, vaguely sociopathic vigilante. [Read, even if you already have, must if you haven't. Much will change.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot, Part 1

**A/N: Hey everyone, I thought I'd explain how this story is going to work. It will parallel the events of Arrow as they occur.** **Over the course of writing this story, what I'd like to see for it has altered drastically. I've settled upon the idea of there being this _other_ vigilante who affects the way he operates and interacts with other characters. What this new vigilante does also affects other people, to an extent, but the point of this story is that it's a different take on Arrow.**

**As in, Oliver is _still_ the most important character in the series. However, I've added a new element that brings out a lot more of Oliver than you see in the television series.**

**What about the pairings, you may ask? Will Olicity happen? Lauliver? The ever-worrisome Oliver/OC?**

**Simply put - nothing is permanent. You will probably experience several different pairings, because what's Arrow without constantly changing dynamics and relationships?**

**Finally - look, I know that this chapter could be a _lot_** **better. Try following it for a week. I'm updating every day and I think you'll like what happens.  
**

* * *

The name of the island the fishermen found him on was Lian Yu. (It's Mandarin for "purgatory".)

He'd been stranded there for five years, and had dreamt of his rescue every cold black night since then. For five years, he'd had only one thought, one goal: to survive: survive and one day return home. The island had held many dangers. To live, he'd had to make himself more than he once was, to forge himself into a weapon. He was returning not as the boy who was shipwrecked, but as the man who would bring justice to those who had poisoned his city. His name… was Oliver Queen.

* * *

Moira Queen was the first person from Oliver's old life to show up at the hospital. Later on, Oliver would never quite be able to describe the feeling he'd had upon hearing the sound of her voice for the first time in five years. "Oliver?"

Oliver, who had been staring out the window, turned around with a strange sense of disbelief. Tears beginning to well in his eyes, he couldn't help but offer a relieved smile. "Mom."

It took them a while to end their embrace, but after they did, Moira was quick to whisk Oliver away from the hospital and back to the Queen mansion. Perhaps she was just ready to back to before, but Oliver knew otherwise. On their way, Oliver had the strangest feeling that he was being followed and chalked it up to paparazzi – he knew they were probably have a field day with his return.

They entered the home Oliver had grown up in, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just as he remembered it. Moira smiled up at him. "Your room is exactly as you left it. I never had the heart to change a thing."

Oliver wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or guilty. He couldn't help but berate himself for not contacting his family… but what was done was done, and perhaps it was better this way after all. He was, however, surprised to see a tall, black man who seemed thrilled to see him back – Oliver vaguely remembered him as one of his father's friends, Walter Steele – and had the nagging impression that Walter wasn't just there to welcome him back.

Raisa, on the other hand, was a different story – Oliver couldn't be happier to see the woman who had cooked for him

"It's good to see you, Raisa."

"Welcome home, Mr. Oliver," she said, beaming. Looking over at Moira and Walter, she added, "Mr. Merlyn phoned, he wants to join you for dinner."

Oliver heard a door open upstairs, and he knew exactly who it was. Ignoring his mother's response, he walked over to the bottom of the stairs, waiting to be proven correct.

"Hey, sis."

Thea, the youngest Queen, came running down the stairs. "I knew it. I knew you were alive." She immediately hugged him, bursting with relief. "I missed you so much."

For the first time since his return, Oliver felt like he was at home. "You were with me the whole time."

* * *

That night, Oliver found himself in his old room. After five years, everything that was once familiar was now unrecognizable. The face he saw in his mirror was that of a stranger. He found himself thinking about how he ended up on the Queen's Gambit in the first place, which led to thoughts of his father. Oliver went downstairs to look at a picture he'd seen of himself and his father, when he was just a child. For all his faults, Robert Queen had loved him, and he found himself wishing (not for the first time) that they'd never gotten on that accursed boat in the first place.

He was too engrossed in his thoughts to hear the opening of the front door.

"What'd I tell you? Yachts suck."

Oliver turned around, grinning widely. "Tommy Merlyn." They hugged (there was a lot of that going around that day).

At dinner, Tommy caught him up on all of the major events of the past five years. Eventually, Thea was perhaps the only one brave enough to ask, "What was it like there?"

The table immediately fell silent. Walter and Moira looked on in surprise, while Tommy seemed more curious.

This was one of the questions Oliver did not want to have to answer. He used as few words as he possibly could. "Cold."

Tommy took the hint and jumped in. "Tomorrow, you and me, we're doing the city."

Moira voiced her assent.

Oliver, however, was more interested in visiting Queen Consolidated, his family's company. He had been a dick before the island, but now he was different. He wanted to carry forth his family's legacy.

Walter, however, seemed to have other ideas. One thing led to another and Oliver was finally informed that Walter was also the man his mother had remarried.

He was happy for her, and yet… "May I be excused?"

He left, patting Tommy's arm and winking at Thea.

He didn't know how rough his first night back was going to be until he woke up in front of his window with his hand at his mother's throat.

* * *

Oliver and Tommy headed out the next morning. Oliver couldn't be more grateful that Tommy hadn't seemed to have changed a bit. As they drove through the Glades, Tommy remarked, "This city's gone to crap. Your dad sold his factory just in time. Why'd you want to drive through this neighborhood anyway?"

Gazing at the old QC factory, Oliver knew it'd be perfect for what he had in mind – not that he could let Tommy know just yet. "No reason."

"So what'd you miss the most, steaks at the Palm, drinks at the station, meaningless sex?" Tommy asked teasingly.

Oliver didn't have to think about his response. "Laurel."

Tommy looked at him, exasperated. "Everyone is happy you're alive. You wanna see the one person who isn't?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean two people?"

Tommy nodded slowly.

"Where is she, is she okay? Does she know I'm back?" Oliver asked, feeling more than slightly guilty.

Tommy wouldn't meet his eyes. "I don't actually know how she is," he said. "She left a few years ago, but she's back now. Laurel told me she saw her last month at the grocery store."

"Let's go see her then."

Tommy shook his head warily. "Something tells me that if she wants to see you, she'll find you."

"Fine," Oliver said, reluctantly. "But I need to see Laurel."

Tommy shook his head, but started up the car. "Don't blame me when this goes sideways."

* * *

Laurel was at the CNRI when she saw Oliver for the first time in five years.

"Hello, Laurel." He smiled, but she didn't. In fact, Oliver was pretty certain she was horrified.

"Look, I know I don't deserve it, but I'd like to talk."

She nodded, still unable to speak.

Five minutes later, they were walking out of the CNRI. To where, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was glad to be around her. During his time at the island, he never went a single day without thinking about her. Now he was with her and it felt almost surreal.

They made small talk for a bit, until Oliver mentioned Adam Hunt.

"Five years, and you want to talk about Adam Hunt?" Laurel said bitingly.

"No, not really," Oliver admitted.

"Why are you here, Ollie?" Laurel asked.

"To apologize. It was my fault. I wanted to ask you not to blame her." He was, of course, referring to Sara Lance.

"For what? Falling under your spell? How could I possibly blame her for doing the same things that I did?"

"I never meant to – "

"She was my sister," Laurel said emphatically. "I couldn't be angry because she was dead. I couldn't grieve because I was too angry. That's what happens when your sister dies while screwing your boyfriend! It was absolute hell, and I had  **no**  one."

"What about-" Oliver began to ask, only to be interrupted.

"She spiraled out, Oliver, what do you think? She was too busy with her own unresolved grief over you and Sara to even talk to me. I knew she was selfish, but this really took the cake," Laurel stated bitterly. "You know the worst part? We buried an empty coffin because Sara's body was at the bottom of the ocean, where  _you_  left her. It should've been you."

"I know that it's too late to say this, but I'm sorry," Oliver said weakly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. I'd hoped that you'd rot in hell a whole lot longer than five years." Laurel stormed off.

Oliver had known it wasn't going to be pretty, but he'd underestimated how long Laurel Lance could hold a grudge.

Oliver slowly walked to the end of the road, where Tommy was waiting. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered. Tommy nodded. They made their way back to the car.

"Okay, so we took care of that, good call. Now we can make up for lost time. If you're not too sick of fish, I suggest we find some leggy models and eat sushi all day, what d'you say?" Before Oliver could answer a van violently pulled up towards them. Several masked men jumped out of the vehicle and shot Oliver and Tommy in the neck with a tranquilizer dart. The last thing Oliver saw before he blacked out was one of the masks: it was a red skull.

* * *

"Mr. Queen. Mr. Queen!" Gasping, Oliver woke up. He was sitting in a chair with his arms tied behind his back. One of the men in the masks was holding a rectangular object. Looking around, he saw that he was in a basement. Tommy was face down on what looked like a side of a wooden crate. His hands were similarly restrained.

"Did your father survive that accident?" the man asked menacingly.

Oliver did not respond, and looked at one of the other men.

"I ask the questions, you give me the answers," the first man said. When Oliver continued to remain silent, the man tasered him in the chest. Oliver struggled not to make a sound. He'd been through worse.

"Did he make it to the island? Did he tell you anything?" Oliver still refused to speak. He was tasered once more.

Finally, he spoke. "Yes, he did."

The man in the mask nodded. "What did he tell you, Mr. Queen?"

Looking over at Tommy, Oliver took several deep breaths before slowly moving his head to face the man. "He told me I'm gonna kill you."

The masked men chuckled to each other.

"You're delusional. You're zip-cuffed to that chair."

Oliver slowly pulled his hands out from behind the chair. "Not anymore."

Oliver would never be able to explain what exactly happened next. He used one of the men as a shield. His chair ended up smashed to bits. He checked to see if Tommy was alive before chasing after the last man.

That was when something unusual happened. He finally caught the man, only to be shot in the leg. Looking up, he saw a woman in a biker helmet holding a gun.

"What are you doing?" he shouted. "He killed someone!"

The woman shook her head. Before she could speak, the man reached up and punched Oliver in the face. Cursing, he was too slow to stop the man from escaping.

Then he heard the second gunshot. Spinning around, he saw that the man was on the ground, completely still.

"So what, you just wanted to kill him yourself?" Oliver said, turning around.

The woman was gone.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, I promise it gets better.**

**Wondering how you can show me some love?**

**a) Favorite b) Follow c) Review**

**See you next time.** **Next: Pilot – Part 2: Meet my OC.**


	2. Pilot, Part 2

**A/N: I know the first chapter wasn't that great. But now that I've gotten that introductory stuff out of the way...**

**(edit) Okay, I haven't. The end of the chapter explains all.**

* * *

Oliver had to protect himself when he gave his statement to the cops. For some reason, he also felt like he had to protect the biker woman, as he'd taken to calling her in his head. So a couple of days later (once he returned from the hospital), when Detective Lance (yes, as in Sara and Laurel Lance) came to the mansion to take his statement, he made up a story about a man in a green hood. Tommy corroborated his version of events (somewhat) and after a very awkward conversation dancing around the fact that Oliver had broken his older daughter's heart and had essentially caused the death of the younger one, the detectives left and he was alone.

Adam Hunt was one of the names on his father's list of men who had failed his city. Before he died, Robert Queen had given Oliver the task of righting his wrongs. One of the many things that Oliver had conveniently forgotten to tell anyone was that Robert hadn't drowned - he (along with one of his associates) had in fact survived long enough for Robert to give Oliver a list of people who needed to be brought to justice.

After that, he'd killed his associate, then himself. All so Oliver could have the best chance of survival possible. Oliver had not been the greatest son; in fact, before the island he had been one of the worst human beings he could think of. Now, as Oliver thought back to that moment, he repeated his silent vow to be better - it had become his mantra since he realized he had any chance of survival.

For the next few hours, Oliver explored the internet. The world wide web had changed since he last had internet access. It took him a while to navigate the new interfaces, but he was intent on finding out all that he could about Adam Hunt. He had been surprised to find that Laurel was working on the case against Hunt. He wondered dryly if that coincidence held any significance.

The meeting with Laurel had been disastrous, to state the obvious. During his time on the island, the thought of coming back to Laurel was perhaps the main thing that had kept him going. As he found himself changing, becoming a man much better than the boy who had hurt her so badly, he also felt himself, for the first time, feeling remorse and wanting to make amends.

Seeing Laurel made him realize that it wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped. He would try again later.

Raisa entered the room with a tray of food, catching him off-guard. "You are different. Not like you to read a book."

Oliver closed his father's notebook and looked at her fondly. "I missed you, Raisa," he said, as if only coming to that realization just then.

"No kitchen on the island," she said knowingly.

"No. No friends either," he said simply.

Raisa only smiled back. Oliver then took note of the tray in her hands. Thanking her, he set it down on a footstool near his bed.

He then asked the question he knew she would answer truthfully. "Do I really seem different?"

"No. You're still a good boy," she said softly, but firmly.

Oliver smiled ruefully. "Oh, I think we both know I wasn't."

"But a good heart," she said confidently, placing her hand over his chest for a moment.

"I hope so. I want to be the person you always told me I could be," he said. It was true. Oliver wanted nothing more than to become a better man - not just for his father, but Raisa. Raisa was the woman who always saw the best in him growing up. It scared him to think how much worse off he would've become without her.

Raisa only smiled, and Oliver thought he could detect the slightest note of pride in her face. She then left the room as silently as she had entered it.

Sitting at his desk again, Oliver found himself researching the woman in the biker helmet. There was something unmistakably familiar about her. The news called her the Helmet (ridiculous name, in his opinion). She'd been fighting crime in the Glades for a little over a month now and had already taken out several dangerous neighborhood criminals. He wondered if he could help, or if she'd let him. Then he remembered the fact that she had  _shot him in the leg_. Oliver couldn't help but wish there was anything else to go on. Something told him this wouldn't be the last time he saw the woman in the biker helmet. He knew he needed to be prepared for their next encounter.

There would be time for that later, Oliver decided. Right now, he had his father's dying wish to fulfill.

* * *

The next day, Oliver was getting ready to leave when his mother introduced his new babysitter – well, bodyguard. John Diggle was ex-military, confident and would not take his shit. Oliver begrudgingly took a liking to him almost immediately.

Still, it was with only a twinge of regret that he climbed out of the car with Diggle still driving it.

Oliver had a lot of work to do if he wanted to set his plan in motion any time soon. He made his way to his father's old factory as soon as he could. He couldn't shake off the feeling that yet again, he was being followed. However, he couldn't see anyone tailing him, and (reluctantly) decided to chalk it up to paranoia.

Upon arriving at the factory, immediately set to work, creating an entrance to the basement and setting up a workstation, complete with training equipment and computers. It wasn't particularly pretty, but it would do.

The abduction had been unexpected. It had forced Oliver to move up his plans, but what he had told the police was true. The man in the green hood  _was_  there in that warehouse, and he was just beginning.

* * *

A week later, Oliver was in his secret basement, watching a news broadcast about the impending lawsuit against Adam Hunt. "The suit alleges multiple acts of fraud and theft against the city's underprivileged. Laurel Lance, an attorney for the City Necessary Resources Initiative..." Oliver tuned out the rest of the reporter's monologue as he considered his next step.

Adam Hunt's crimes went deeper than fraud or theft. He'd been able to bully, bribe or kill anyone who got in his way.

But then, he hadn't met Oliver yet.

* * *

Adam Hunt and his two bodyguards were heading towards his car in the underground parking of his building when an arrow whooshed over his head and took out the light fixture behind him.

The next arrow went into the first bodyguard's chest.

"Get in the car!" The second bodyguard exclaimed, panicked.

Adam dived into the car. The bodyguard shut the door and then fired several shots towards the place the first arrow had gone.

"Hey. You missed." That, and the sound of another arrow effectively silencing his bodyguard, was all Adam Hunt could hear within the confines of his vehicle. Terrified, he could only brace himself as the window to his right shattered.

He had barely gotten a glimpse of an arrow embedded in the car seat when he was thrown out of the car and onto the floor garage. He looked up, only to see a man in a green hood looking down at him menacingly from the roof of his car.

Oliver jumped off of the car and held an arrow to Adam Hunt's throat. "You are going to transfer $40 million into Starling City bank account 1141 by 10 pm tomorrow night."

Sounding braver than he felt, Adam asked, "Or what?"

"Or I'm going to take it, and you won't like how," Oliver said with finality.

"If I see you again, you're dead!" Adam shouted as Oliver, still hidden by his hood, turned to leave.

Adam saw the arrow whiz past his head and break the glass on the back of his car. He turned back to give the man in the green hood a piece of his mind, only to see that he was gone.

* * *

After the altercation in the garage, Oliver really wasn't in the mood for a party. However, he knew he had appearances to keep up.

Tommy Merlyn, for all his faults, had decided that Oliver needed a "Welcome Back from the Dead" party. Oliver knew it was just an excuse for Tommy to get laid, but as it turned out, it worked in his favor as well.

Therefore, the following night saw Oliver changing into one of his charcoal grey suits. He opened the door of the backseat of his car. To his surprise, Diggle was already sitting there. "Put on your seatbelt, sir. Wouldn't want you to miss your party."

Oliver grinned and shook his head in amusement. He really would have to cut him some slack.

* * *

The party was exactly as he'd envisioned it in his head: loud music, unnecessarily dramatic setting, dark lighting, tons of people. Five years had passed and Tommy's idea of a good time hadn't changed a bit. He checked his phone: It was 9:07 pm. Less than an hour before Adam Hunt paid up - if not with money, then with something a little more valuable to the white collar criminal.

As he descended down the staircase, buttoning his jacket up, Tommy (and the swarm of girls he was surrounded by) turned around. Tommy motioned at the DJ to cut the music.

Running up the stairs to meet Oliver, Tommy shouted, "Everybody, hey! Man of the hour!"

The cheers from the massive crowd were deafening. Tommy, enjoying the attention, continued, "And Ladies, please give this man a proper homecoming."

Oliver put on a smile as he was guided towards the gaggle of women waiting to see him. They led him up to a stage in the center of the room as Queen's "We Are the Champions" played over the speakers.

This was what Oliver had excelled at before the island: being the main attraction.

"Thank you very much, everybody!"

Tommy handed Oliver a shotglass filled to the brim. Oliver was quick to knock it back. Then, just as he would've five years ago, with an exaggerated noise of satisfaction, he shouted, "I missed tequila!"

... And that was it. The party resumed.

Oliver paid little attention to Tommy as he spent the next ten minutes trying to get him laid. Having zoned out of the conversation, Oliver noticed a girl slip Thea (he hadn't even known she was invited!) something that set alarm bells off in his head. "Back in a minute," he said grimly.

Diggle followed.

"Ollie!" Thea said a little anxiously. "This party is sick!"

"Who let you in here?" Oliver asked grimly.

Callously, she replied, "I believe it was somebody who said, 'Right this way, Miss Queen,'!"

"Well you shouldn't be here!" Oliver said, frustrated.

"I'm not 12 anymore."

"No, you're 17."

"Ollie, I love you," Thea said, pleading, "but you can't come back here and judge me, especially for being just like you."

What followed was a conversation that made Oliver realize that while he had thought of his time away from Starling City as well, his 'time away', to the rest of his family and those he had once known,  _he had been dead_. As angry as Laurel had been, her pain could not compare to Thea's.

Thea explained that she had been all alone. She had lost her father  _and_  her brother. Her mother soon found someone new, but Thea had been left to fend for herself. It wasn't something she was capable of letting go of easily.

Apparently having expressed all she needed to, she turned to her friends and said, "Let's bounce."

Oliver attempted to go after her, only to be stopped by the woman who tied for last on his list of people most likely to attend his party.

He hadn't seen her in years. The one time he returned to Starling City, she had seemingly disappeared as well. No one even mentioned her name.

Before he could get a word out, she said, "I'll go after her. Enjoy your party."

The surrealism of the situation almost stopped him from grabbing her arm. "Sophie, wait."

She spun around, and Oliver got his first look at the woman who had once trusted him more than anyone but Sara.

The years had changed Sophie Lawton. She was more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her. Dark hair contrasted with tan skin and green (or perhaps hazel, or perhaps brown - he could never tell) eyes held a haunted look that he could tell had become a permanent fixture. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. Once again, he had underestimated how badly his disappearance (and the events leading up to it) had affected those he'd left behind.

Sophie, however, had other ideas. "Not right now, Oliver," she said tiredly. "Believe me when I say that this is hardly the time or place I'd like to have this conversation." As if sensing his frustration, she added softly, "We will have it though, I promise."

He nodded mutely. Without another word, she disappeared into the crowd, in search of Thea.

Reeling from this chance meeting, he barely noticed when he ran into Laurel. He steadied her, then in a tone that was more forceful than he would've liked: "You're here."

Laurel seemed to be struggling for words. "Tommy. He made the point that we have too many years between us to... leave things the way we left them. Is there... somewhere quieter that we could go?"

Oliver's relief at being given a second chance outweighed his desire to go after Sophie. As they left, he failed to notice the look on Tommy's face as he watched them go.

* * *

He wasn't lying when he later told Laurel that he would've gladly traded places with Sara. He couldn't, however, tell her the truth when she asked if Sara's death had been painless.

Laurel had apologized for what she'd said before. They were talking about Sara in a way that didn't make Laurel feel angry or Oliver guilty. They were on the verge of reconciliation when Oliver's alarm went off - it was 10 pm and the bank account was still empty.

That was the moment when he realized that the task his father had given him was going to make him do terrible things - things he could live with, but Laurel shouldn't have to.

So it was a lot easier than it should've been to tell Laurel that no, he hadn't changed a bit, and in fact, he was most likely going to cause her more pain, along with some crap about having 5 years' worth of debauchery to catch up on.

Tears swimming in her eyes, Laurel bitterly stated, "You know what, Oliver? You're wrong. That island did change you. At least now you're honest."

She left. Oliver would give himself time to feel upset about it later.

Adam Hunt had ignored his initial warning. He wouldn't be able to ignore what Oliver was going to do to him next.

* * *

The building Adam Hunt had locked himself in just happened to be opposite the venue of Oliver's resurrection party. The officers of the SCPD were parked outside Hunt's building, waiting for the man in the hood to emerge.

Oliver made quick work of Adam's electrical system, shutting it down without warning. Adam and several of his men looked towards the elevator.

It pinged open and an arrow flew into one of the men.

The next few minutes were a blur. Oliver could remember knocking out and killing most of Adam's men. Just when he had Adam at arrow-point, he was surprised from behind by another man.

There were two gunshots and Oliver found himself lying on the ground. One of the bullets had hit him in the chest.

The other hit his sneak attacker squarely between the eyes.

Oliver heard sirens and the sounds of policemen. He fell in and out of consciousness. The last thing he remembered was being dragged over to the window, attached to his zipline and zooming toward the ground, successfully evading police capture.

Then it all went black.

* * *

**A/N: I honestly expected to be able to complete Pilot: AU in two chapters. Yet here I am at 2900 words with the end nowhere near sight and the most important conversation of all _hasn't even taken place yet_.**

**But hey, you met my OC! Sophie Lawton (yes, as in _that_  Lawton). No, she's not canon in any way. Absolutely completely original. As far as I'm aware, Floyd Lawton never had a relative named Sophie, especially in this capacity.**

**I promise it gets better. Promise. 3**

**See you soon. Feedback is demanded. Follows are embraced. Favorites are satisfactory.**


	3. Pilot, Part 3

**A/N: TWO IN ONE NIGHT? WHAAAAAAAAT?**

**Basically, I had to split Part 2 into halves because it was simply too long. I hope you appreciate my efforts. :')**

**Here we go, the final part of Pilot: AU! This will be shorter than the previous chapters. Think of it as the part of the episode that airs after the final commercial break: it's short, but important.**

* * *

Oliver woke up, gasping. He looked at his surroundings and realized he was in an abandoned fire escape.

He then looked down at himself, and with some relief, noted that there was no damage done. Very likely because of the bulletproof vest he wore under his gear.

He stiffened.  _He wasn't wearing his gear_.

Which meant that someone had found him and taken it off for him.

 _Someone knew who he was_.

Oliver put his hand on his forehead and found a piece of paper stuck to his forehead.

' _Go back to the party. Reassure Detective Lance that you're the selfish rich kid he thinks you are. Meet me at your father's old factory in one hour. I think it's time we met.'_

 _The Helmet_ , Oliver thought, realization dawning upon him. But why was she helping him?

For the first time, Oliver considered that maybe, just  _maybe_ , he already knew who she was.

* * *

Fooling Detective Lance was far easier than it should've been, but then, Quentin Lance tended to see things exactly the way he wanted.

"Detective! It's a private party."

"Yeah, well there was an incident at Adam Hunt's building tonight, do you know anything about that?" Lance asked suspiciously.

Feigning ignorance (with ease), Oliver asked, "Who's Adam Hunt?"

"He's a millionaire bottom feeder, and I'm kind of surprised you aren't friends," Lance said derisively.

"I've been town for... a while," Oliver said, fake grin in place.

"Yeah, well he just got attacked by the guy with the hood - the guy that saved your ass the other day."

Oliver could tell that Lance would've liked nothing less than the opposite.

Getting even more into his character as the Oliver Queen of five years before, Oliver said, "The hood guy? You didn't find him? I'm gonna offer a reward." Raising his voice, he shouted, "Hey everybody, $2 million dollars to anybody that can find a nutbar in a green hood."

Oliver pretended to revel in the ensuing shouts of appreciation.

Lance's face changed. He went from annoyed to angry in less than a second. "Did you even try to save her? Did you even try to save my daughter?"

"Okay, that's enough," Sophie Lawton said, appearing out of nowhere. "Come on, Detective Lance, it's time for you to go home."

Lance looked at Sophie like she had grown three extra heads. "Are you kidding me? You've  _forgiven_  this guy? After what he did to you?"

Sophie shook her head sadly. "Mr. Lance, Sara wouldn't have wanted this. It was her choice to go with him. The fact that she died doesn't change the fact that she would be mortified to see you try to make Oliver take the blame for  _her choice_."

Detective Lance, rendered speechless, allowed himself to be led away by his partner. The last time Sophie had called him Mr. Lance and not Detective was... well, when Sara had been alive.

"Oh and Detective," Sophie said, almost as an afterthought, "I never said I'd forgiven him."

For some reason, this knowledge made Lance smile.

After he left the premises, Sophie turned to Oliver and said, "You're welcome. Try to stay away from him, he's been through enough already."

Then, with a look that Oliver couldn't quite define, she held his gaze for a moment.

She turned to Tommy. "Hey, great party."

Tommy snorted.

Then, before Oliver could say something,  _anything_ , she left.

* * *

Oliver made up an excuse to leave the party as soon as he could. He ended up reaching the foundry right on time.

The first thing he saw was that his gear and outfit were laid out for him on a table. For this reason, he almost didn't notice the fact that his chair was occupied by...

The woman in the biker helmet.

"Hey Oliver," she said casually.

He knew that voice.

"Sophie?" he asked, disbelievingly.  **(A/N: Yeah yeah, you guys knew it was her, we get it.)**

"Well, we did agree we needed to talk," she said, taking her helmet off and shaking her long dark hair out.

Oliver, for the life of him, could not understand what was happening. "Since when are you a vigilante?"

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you?"

Oliver just shook his head slowly. Then: "What  _happened_ to you?"

Sophie stood, folding her arms as she smiled sardonically. "Let's see. It all started one stormy night when my closest friend died while screwing my girlfriend."

He winced. It was true.

Oliver and Sophie had been close friends for years, even before they met the Lances. Besides Raisa, she had been the only person to try to see beyond Party Oliver. She knew he was capable of more. She hadn't been perfect herself, behaving almost sociopathically with everyone but him (and Tommy) until their junior year at high school. For some reason, she hadn't possessed the ability to show concern for anyone outside her immediate circle (rather, triangle) of friends.

High school was a time of change for Oliver, Sophie and Tommy. Oliver met Laurel in freshman year and started dating almost immediately. While Tommy would never admit it out loud, Sophie knew his feelings for the older Lance went beyond friendship. In fact, Tommy had been so miserable that the two of them had tried dating...

... And almost instantly agreed to  _never_  go down that road again. They just didn't work like that.

Sophie had met Sara a couple of times (Sophie had never really bonded with Laurel, but Laurel would sometimes bring her younger sister when they went out in a group). She'd been fond of her, yes. But she had never thought of her as anything as Laurel's little sister until Sara's 15th birthday.

Her party was loud, wild - courtesy of Tommy Merlyn, of course. But to Sophie and Sara, none of that had registered because they had found  _each other_ , as corny as that sounded.

For reasons unknown to many, Sophie never thought she could feel anything but anger, boredom, or occasional amusement until that night. Sara brought something out in her she never knew existed - she made her care,  _really_  care, about someone other than herself and the two boys. Several times that night, she caught herself wanting to know more about her. She wanted to know about the guy who broke her heart the previous year, but more worryingly, she wanted to cause him pain.

Sex was something Sophie enjoyed, and with both persuasions. It took Sophie a while to reconcile herself to the fact that what she felt was more than desire - that she had actual, genuine,  _human_  feelings for Sara Lance. Sara, however, was quick to reciprocate. Over the next few years, Sophie changed monumentally from the aloof, uncaring person she'd once been. Sara, for once, felt wanted. Sophie was a year older, and at the time it had made her feel special. There was more to it than that, though. Upon hearing about Sophie's past, Sara wanted to be the one to fix her, to make her feel better. Over time, they fell in love. They had been together right up until the day Sara died.

While screwing Oliver, the best friend, in his father's yacht.

"About that," Oliver said, finally speaking up. "I know that nothing I say will fix what I did, but I'm sorry."

"I know," she said simply.

Oliver looked at her in surprise. "I basically caused the death of the love of your life,  _while she was cheating on you with me_ , and that's all you have to say?"

Sophie looked at him with a hint of amusement. "Oliver, as odd as this might sound, I've had other things on my mind these past few years."

Oliver sat down. "You're doing it again."

That was something he said when she exhibited this kind of behavior. Sometimes the way she was expected to react didn't match the way she  _did_  react.

Sophie shook her head, smiling lightly. "Good to see some things don't change."

Oliver nodded warily.

Sophie sat down on the floor next to him, back up against one of the tables. "Nice lair. Needs an upgrade, though."

Oliver said nothing, just raised an eyebrow.

Sophie sighed, as if she knew exactly what was on his mind. "I can't imagine what you went through all those years on the island, but if it was anything like what I went through, I can't be mad at you. There's no way in hell the Oliver of five years ago would risk his life for justice. You've obviously changed, but so have I."

Oliver shook his head. "It's my fault she's dead, Sophie."

Sophie snorted derisively. "It's your fault you asked, it's her fault she went along with it, it's Laurel's fault she freaked you out by wanting to move in with you, it's my fault that I wasn't enough for Sara to make her stay."

Oliver had no idea how to respond to that.

"What I'm trying to say," she said, closing her eyes briefly, "is that in some way or the other, we could all be at least partially responsible for what happened. Except,  _guess what,_ you didn't kill her yourself."

He opened his mouth, about to argue otherwise.

"As much as I'd like to play 'Let's Drown Oliver in Self-Pity', I think I owe you an explanation."

Oliver wasn't surprised she knew what was on his mind. She'd always known him better than anyone, even Tommy, even Laurel. What did surprise him was how she seemed to already know the  _new_  Oliver.

He'd spent the past five years in hell, but apparently so had she.

"Go on," he said encouragingly.

Sophie leaned back and stared at the ceiling as she started to speak. "I was never the partying type - that was all you and Tommy. For me, it was more about the random hooking up. Drugs and alcohol frankly scared the shit out of me back then, and sex was the only thing that could ever take my mind off of everything." She paused. "Well, after I lost you and Sara, I sort of lost it. I didn't have anything to be scared of anymore. In one day, I'd lost the two most important people in my life in one of the worst ways possible, and I was prepared to do  _anything_  to forget about it. Of course," she said sarcastically, "I couldn't possibly have sex the night my girlfriend died. That would've been absolute crap. Did it matter that she'd died  _while having sex with someone else_? Of course not. So I bumped into Tommy and Laurel, and we drank until we passed out.

"Tommy was used to it. Laurel, not so much, but she had better restraint than I did. I was a wreck," Sophie said, clenching her jaw, "And I wanted to forget everything. I wanted to forget how to feel. Numbness sounded perfect, and after a month of constant drinking didn't help, I turned to drugs." Here, her expression changed to one of barely masked longing. "Weed, cocaine, LSD, hell, even acid on one particularly bad night. About six months later, I still hadn't stopped - if anything, it was worse than ever. That's when the first really terrible thing happened."

"The first?" Oliver asked, frowning slightly.

Sophie snorted. "Yup, no happy endings in sight. So there I am, half a year later, trying to walk home, barely able to stand. No idea where Tommy is or where I'm even going, to be honest. Long story short - " she hesitated - "several guys, I'm not exactly sure how many, got in my way, held me down, and well... I'm sure you can see where this is going."

Oliver was surprised his nails hadn't broken the skin of his palm yet. He took a deep, controlled breath. "Go on," he said, barely masking the compressed anger.

"Now, pre-Sara, I would've just gone back to drinking and getting high. Post-Sara, I got clean, went to AA meetings, which is where I met Detective Lance again for the first time in a year. We bonded, and I realized that I wanted to be involved in public service."

"You only became a vigilante last month," Oliver pointed out, confused.

Sophie laughed. "I know. Actually, I joined the army, which is where I learned to shoot a gun. It's also where I met your bodyguard, John Diggle. He'd mostly moved onto the private sector by then, which I later found out was code for something else. He still taught a couple of classes to new recruits, and for some reason, he thought I had potential. So after a scandal I was involved in during an operation - that's the second terrible thing, by the way - Dig convinced me to leave the army and join a secret organization. Maybe you've heard of it? It's called ARGUS," she said slyly.

Oliver started. "You're telling me you knew I was alive?" And then: "Did you have anything to do with Dig being hired?"

Sophie nodded. "I had no idea until about two years after the Queen's Gambit went down. I joined ARGUS and my first task was to secretly observe you when you returned to Starling City for that op."

Oliver knew what she was talking about. "That was you?"

She smiled guiltily. "Yeah. Oh, and it's been me stalking you the past few days. I just - You ditched Diggle - and yes, I did have a little something to do with him being hired as your bodyguard - and I had to know what you were doing. I don't like having variables in this city," she said, frowning. "Makes it a little tough to do vigilante work."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Oliver said pointedly.

Sophie at least at the decency to appear apologetic.

"How did you leave ARGUS?" Oliver asked curiously.

She shrugged. "Dig and I both got out at the same time. It wasn't working. They were trying to turn me into an assassin. The words 'Suicide Squad' were even thrown around a few times, and I wasn't even a criminal in the technical sense. Dig and his wife at the time, Lyla, split up, and he struck a deal to get both of us out. He still trains me from time to time. It helped when I decided to finally become a vigilante. If he hadn't been there to convince me that I could still do some good - although I'm not quite sure this is how he would've wanted it - I'm not sure where I'd be right now."

"Sounds like a good man to have around," Oliver said thoughtfully.

"The best," Sophie said firmly. "But whatever you're thinking right now, you can go ahead and forget about it."  _How did she always know?_ "We're not getting Diggle involved in this."

Oliver sighed reluctantly. "I suppose you're right. He is my bodyguard though, and I can't keep ditching him forever."

Sophie shrugged. "Your problem, not mine."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Oliver felt like he had a million questions to ask, and found himself not wanting to know the answers. He also wanted to comfort her, but he somehow knew that was the last thing she wanted.

Sophie might've had food, water, and all the normal luxuries he'd missed out on on the island, but the horrors she'd faced were no worse than his own.

In that moment, he'd never felt closer to her. He wanted to tell her all about the island, but it was too fresh. There was so little he was ready to talk about, but he felt like he had to tell her  _something_. So he chose the one thing that to her, he knew, would be everything.

"Sophie," he began with trepidation, "I have something to tell you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"It's about Sara."

* * *

The next morning, Oliver and Sophie woke up in the Foundry, having fallen asleep without realizing it.

The night had been tough. What had started out as an honest and open conversation turned into several yelling matches, a sparring session, and finally, in the most emotional moment he had ever shared with her, they cried a river.

For Robert, Sara, for the people they once were.

He told her about parts of the island, working for ARGUS, and, most importantly, his father and the mission he gave him.

She told him about her darkest moments and some of the revelations she'd made about herself... and her own family.

Sophie and Oliver weren't completely fine. They were both somewhat damaged by what they had gone through. They weren't ready to face it all yet, but they would be.

But for the first time in a long time, they also weren't completely alone, something Oliver took note of as he crossed the first name off his father's list. Thanks to an arrow Oliver had left in Hunt's wall, they had been able to sort through his finances and transfer the $40 mil to the accounts of those he'd affected with his thieving ways.

Oliver might not have been able to do any of it if she hadn't saved him from the cops.

"Let's work together," Oliver suggested. "You help me with the names on my father's list, I'll help you save the Glades."

Sophie looked at him at length. Finally -

"Okay, but I have some conditions. Just two, actually."

"Go on," Oliver said slowly.

"First, you've got to fix up the lair."

"Done. And?"

"... I  _so_  need a better name than the Helmet."

"My thoughts exactly," said Oliver, with his first real smile since his return.

* * *

**A/N: ... So that ended up being way, way longer than I intended it to be. I need you to let me know EXACTLY what you thought of this chapter. It is VITAL. I will not write anything else until I get some feedback on this chapter.**

**Also, I will say that this is nothing more than friendship at the moment - maybe forever. You may have forgotten, but Oliver spends all of season 1 in love with Laurel.**

**Oh, and Felicity's coming up soon.**

**Feedback. Favorite. Review.**

**You know the drill.**


	4. Honor Thy Father, Part 1

 

"And that's another name I can cross off the list," Oliver said as he entered the basement.

"Congratulations," Sophie said, amused. She was staring at the salmon ladder warily. "Are you sure this is safe?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Scared?"

She huffed. "Here, catch," she said, throwing his father's notebook to him.

Marcus Redman had been only too easy to coerce into returning the money he'd stolen from his pensioners' fund. Unlike Adam Hunt, he had no backbone. With a sense of pride, he crossed out his name from the notebook.

Turning to Sophie, who was now fiddling with their police scanner, he asked, "How was your night?"

She shrugged. "Uneventful. A couple of break-ins and an assault or two. There's only so much I can do by myself."

Oliver winced. "I'm sorry, but you know how important this is."

"I do, Oliver," she said, sighing, "but one day you're going to realize that rich egomaniacs aren't the root of all evil in Starling City."

Oliver said nothing, not wanting to start an argument that night.

Working with Sophie hadn't been the easiest of times. Did he regret asking her to join him? No. He liked having someone he could trust with his work. But it quickly became apparent that they both had different agendas and ideas when it came to how they could save Starling City, and as much as Sophie had hated to admit it, she needed more help. Oliver took down a criminal per night; Sophie was overstretched at five or even six at times.

So instead of getting into a discussion about why his mission took precedence, he casually asked, "You're going to be there tomorrow, right?"

Sophie blinked, confused. "What's tomorrow?"

"They're bringing me back from the dead, legally speaking."

"And you want me there?" she asked, only slightly less confused.

"Of course," Oliver said, frowning. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Maybe because we agreed that it would be safer to stay away from each other in public?" Indeed, they had. The truth was that the police were looking for two vigilantes working together. The timing of their separate returns to Starling City, along with the appearances of their alter egos, was suspect enough.

Oliver sighed. "I guess you're right."

Sophie stared at him for a moment. "No, I'll be there. We'll say Thea dragged me there, if we need to."

Oliver snorted. "No way Thea's going."

There was chatter on the police scanner. Sophie listened intently for a moment, then got up, picking up her helmet and strapping her guns onto her suit.

"We'll talk about this later," she said reassuringly. "You coming?"

Oliver picked up his bow in response.

* * *

He was ambushed by a mob of reporters on his way up the steps of the courthouse. For some reason, he hadn't considered that this would happen, and faintly realized that Sophie would probably receive the same treatment.

"Can you tell us what happened on that island, Mr. Queen?"

"Did you see Sara Lance die?"

"Tell us about the accident and how you survived for five years on that island!"

He somehow pushed through the mob and made it into the courtroom.

He wondered if Laurel would be there.

The proof of life hearing went smoother than he would've expected. He gave a brief, prepared statement about the accident and how he'd survived it.

"There was a storm. The boat went down. I was the only survivor. My father didn't make it. I almost died. I thought that I had, because I spent so many days on that life raft before I saw the island. When I reached it. When I reached it, I knew. I knew I was going to have to live for both of us. And in those five years, it was that one thought that kept me going."

"Your honor, we wish to move to vitiate the death-in-absentia filed after Oliver's disappearance at sea aboard the Queen's Gambit five years ago. Unfortunately, we will not be requesting that the declaration of death filed for the petitioner's father, Robert Queen, be rescinded. The Queen family is only entitled to one miracle, I'm afraid," their lawyer said morosely.

The judge immediately ruled in their favor. Turning around to leave, Oliver noticed Sophie slipping out the back of the courtroom. He smiled lightly. If there was one person he could trust at all since his return, it was her. He was glad that he wasn't completely removed from his past life.

As he descended the stairs with his mother, Walter and Tommy, he suddenly didn't feel like going to see Queen Consolidated just yet. The legal resurrection had been heavier than he'd expected it to be. Moira and Walter left, understanding his need to wait.

"Last week, you couldn't wait to get to the company," Tommy noted.

"Tommy, I'd just spent five years away from civilization. I wasn't exactly thinking straight," he said, only partly lying.

Sophie was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. "Hey there, Queen. How does it feel to be alive again?"

Tommy raised an eyebrow at him. "We're… working things out," Oliver said vaguely.

They reached the bottom of the staircase, but before Oliver could respond to Sophie, he almost walked into Laurel and two of her friends.

"I… hi," Oliver said, caught off-guard.

"What are you doing here?" Laurel asked, annoyed.

"Oh, they were bringing me back from the dead. Legally speaking."

Laurel said nothing.

Trying to keep the conversation going, he asked, "What're you doing here?"

"My job," she snapped.

"Right," Oliver said quickly.

"More like the D.A.'s," one of Laurel's friends piped up. Oliver recalled seeing her at the CNRI, her name was Joanna.

Noticing the other friend had yet to say anything, Oliver decided to introduce himself. "Hi, Oliver Queen."

"Uh, Emily Nocenti," she said, not meeting his eyes as she shook his hand.

"Oliver just got back from five years on an uncharted island. Before that, he was cheating on me with my sister, who  _you're_ " - here she looked at Sophie – "supposed to have been in love with, by the way. He was with her when he died. And last week, he told me to stay away from him. It was really good advice." Laurel ended bitterly. She stormed off towards the staircase.

"It was nice to meet you," Emily said weakly. She awkwardly followed Laurel up the stairs with Joanna.

Tommy winced. "Harsh."

Sophie only nodded. "She's always had a hard time letting things go."

Oliver looked at her curiously. "A conversation for later, I suppose."

Tommy patted him on the back. "Come on buddy, shake it off. Let's go."

The three of them left the courthouse together. The press were swarming around a man Oliver recognized from the news as Martin Somers, Laurel's latest target. However, as soon as Martin headed toward the courthouse, the press immediately noticed the trio on the steps.

Before they could get ambushed any further, Diggle ushered Oliver down the steps, blocking the reporters while Oliver attempted to do the same for Sophie. Diggle pushed both of them into the back of the car, then threatened several of the reporters who still wouldn't let up. The next thing he heard was the car speeding away.

"This happens to you a lot, doesn't it?" Tommy asked.

Diggle's frustration was clearly visible on his face.

Inside the car, Oliver groaned. "So much for staying separate in the public eye."

Sophie shrugged. "So, Martin Somers?"

"He's next," Oliver said firmly.

* * *

Once they returned to the foundry, Oliver and Sophie got to work.

Martin Somers was one of the names on Robert Queen's list. Laurel was attempting to prove – with a preponderance of evidence – that Victor Nocenti, a stevedore on the docks of Starling City, learned that his boss, Martin Somers, was taking bribes from the Chinese triads to smuggle drugs into the city. When Victor Nocenti threatened to tell the police, Martin Somers had him killed.

"That girl we saw with Laurel today, the blond – she's the daughter of that man Martin murdered," Sophie said slowly.

"Laurel may think she's the only one who can bring him to justice, but she's wrong," Oliver said.

Sophie hesitated. "Listen, I know you want to be the one to do it, but why not just let the system work? Laurel's bringing him to trial. I've seen the evidence – it's solid. They even found a judge willing to hear their case."

Oliver shook his head. "He has friends in the DA's office and I'm willing to bet that he's more than capable of making the evidence disappear. Laurel needs a confession from Martin Somers himself."

Sophie nodded. "Let me know if you need my help. I've got a few things to sort out before tonight, so I'll leave you to it."

Oliver knew not to push her. He knew, as honest as they'd been with each other the previous week, that the there was a lot they didn't feel like sharing yet. He figured she'd tell him when she wanted to.

Besides, there were more important things on his mind at the moment.

* * *

That night, the man in the hood paid a visit to Martin Somers. It had been only too easy to overpower the man, his lawyer and his security detail.

When Martin regained consciousness, he was hanging upside down by his ankles and staring at the man in the green hood.

"Martin Somers."

"Who the hell are you?" Martin asked fearfully.

"You've failed this city," Oliver said, raising his bow and releasing an arrow that barely whizzed past Martin's body. "You're gonna testify in that trial. You're gonna confess to having Victor Nocenti killed! There won't be a second warning!"

Oliver released another arrow that grazed Martin's right cheek. He closed his eyes, wincing at the pain.

When Martin's eyes opened, the man in the hood was gone.

* * *

Diggle was in the doghouse.

"I hired you to protect my son. Now, I'm not a professional bodyguard, but it seems to me that the first requirement would be managing to stay next to the man you're hired to protect," Moira Queen said pointedly, pacing back in forth in the living room of the Queen mansion.

"With all due respect ma'am, I've never had a client who didn't want my protection," Diggle muttered. Oliver Queen was the most frustrating task he had ever faced in his life, and he'd worked under the command of Amanda Waller.

"I hired you. That makes me the client," said Moira with a long glance at Diggle. Convinced he now understood the terms of their agreement, she continued, "Now where do you think my son is going on these chaperone-less excursions?"

Diggle hated to say it, but… "Ma'am, I truly do not know."

Oliver walked into the room at that moment. "And he truly doesn't."

It didn't take much more than an awkward exchange between mother and son for Oliver to convince Moira that he was seeking company in Starling City's red light district.

He was, however, unsuccessful in convincing her to let him go alone.

"This is not a game," Moira said, eyes growing large, "I lost you once, and I am not going through that again."

If only she knew how capable he really was of taking care of himself… "Okay," Oliver agreed reluctantly. "Digg's my guy."

"Thank you," Moira said, exasperated. She left, perhaps to dry her glassy eyes.

"Sorry to give you so much grief," Oliver said. And he meant it, sort of.

"I served three tours in Afghanistan, Mr. Queen. You don't even come close to my definition of grief." This was only slightly untrue. "But I tell you what – you ditch me one more time and no one will have to fire me."

Oliver nodded, a look of understanding passing between the two men.

Thea chose that moment to walk in, clearly heading out somewhere.

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked, already certain he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Uh… somewhere loud and smoky. And don't bother trying to pickpocket my stash this time, because I'm gonna go get drunk instead," was Thea's snarky reply.

"Thea, do you think that this is what Dad would want for you?" Oliver asked helplessly, walking toward her.

"Dead people don't want anything. It's one of the benefits of being dead," Thea said bitterly.  **(A/N: This is one of my** _ **favorite**_ **lines in the series.)**

"I was dead. And I wanted a lot," Oliver said. Thea would never understand how much he meant it at that moment.

"Except your family. You've been home a week, and all you do is avoid mom, ignore Walter, and judge me. Don't wait up," Thea said as she opened the front door and left, slamming it loudly.

Oliver exhaled loudly. Of all the people he had been looking forward to see, Thea was the one who he thought would accept him immediately, no questions asked. But it had been  _five years_ , and she had been through more than any teenager should. His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

He opened the door, to see Sophie staring after Thea. "Are you really going to let her go?" she asked.

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know what to do."

Sophie sighed. "I know. I've been trying to help her ever since I got back, but it's been tough getting her to open up to me."

Oliver was curious. "Since when do you help people deal with their personal issues? I recall a very drug-addicted Laurel Lance in 2004 who you practically ignored."

Sophie looked apprehensive. "Don't take this the wrong way, but… she reminds me of Sara, when she was her age."

Oliver groaned. "First Tommy, now you. I don't need the whole of Starling City telling me how hot my sister is."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that. Come on, Oliver. It's just that Sara had it tough too, what with Laurel's problems and feeling completely out of place all the time. I don't want to see her end up the same way."

"Is that judgment I hear?" Oliver asked, half-joking.

Sophie just smiled. "So how'd tonight go?" she asked, changing the topic.

Oliver welcomed it. "I think he's going to confess."

"That reminds me – I couldn't get ahold of your cell, so I decided to come tell you in person. One of the stevedores on the docks called 911. Detective Lance is going to be out for blood."

Oliver rubbed his face wearily. "Excellent. Anything else?"

"Nope, that was it," Sophie said, heading toward the door. "I'm going back to the foundry and see what I can pick up on the police scanner. See you tomorrow?"

Oliver nodded. "If I'm in a bad mood, it's because I'll have just spent the day at Queen Consolidated."

She winced. "Have fun with that."

Oliver noticed that she hadn't asked why he'd willingly subjugate himself to that torture, and realized that she didn't need to.

* * *

**A/N: So that's the chapter. Follow, Favorite, Review.**

**Thanks ^_^**


	5. Honor Thy Father, Part 2

Oliver Queen was tired of disappointing his mother.

He had good reason, but when he refused a leadership role at Queen Consolidated, he knew that it was one of his top 5 disappointing moments. Moira Queen did not take it well at all.

However, it was Diggle who was able to truly express what Oliver was feeling afterwards. As they waited for the driver in the car, shielding themselves from the newshounds, Diggle said, "Home is a battlefield. Back home, they're all trying to get you. Get you to open up, be somebody you're not sure you are anymore."

With another sidelong glance, he added, "Or maybe I'm wrong, and you're not as messed up in the head as you have every right to be."

Somehow, Oliver knew Diggle was sure that wasn't the case at all.

* * *

Oliver was less than thrilled when the news reported that Martin Somers had no intention of testifying all. Things continued to take a turn for the worse when his sister walked into his room as he was putting his shirt on, noticing his heavily scared body.

"Wait, how did you get those?"

Oliver groaned, attempting to put his shirt on as quickly as possible. "Don't you knock?"

"No wait, mom said that there were scars but… Oliver, what  _happened_  to you out there?"

That look of fear and pity in her eyes was exactly what Oliver had been trying to avoid.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course. You don't want to talk to me about anything except my social life," Thea said bitterly, turning to leave his room.

"Wait," Oliver called out. "Where are you going?"

"Why should I tell you?" she fired back.

"I'm sorry, Thea. I need to get better at talking about what happened to me there. But I'm not ready yet. Okay?" Oliver didn't want to cut Thea out of his life, but there was so much he couldn't tell her just yet – maybe ever.

"Do you have a second?" Thea said slowly.

"Yeah." At that moment, Oliver would've done almost anything to make his sister feel better.

She took a shaky breath. "Good. I want to show you something out back."

* * *

The "something out back" turned out to be two tombstones: Oliver's and Robert's.

Oliver learned that Thea had been so alone that she'd taken to talking to his tombstone so make herself feel better. Now she had the real Oliver, whom she couldn't even talk to without him judging her.

"You gotta let me in, Ollie. You gotta let someone in," Thea said furiously, as she left him alone with the graves.

He picked up his phone and started to dial Sophie's number, before he realized that there was someone who he wished would understand more than anyone.

* * *

Laurel Lance was surprised, to say the least, when the person knocking on her door ended up being Oliver Queen.

"Hi. Are you okay?" were Oliver's first words when she opened her door with a less than welcoming expression on her face. "There are two cop cars outside."

Laurel ignored his question. "How am I supposed to stay away from you if you won't stay away from me?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but she barreled on. "What are you doing here, Ollie?"

"My sister took- she pointed out to me that I have been distant since I got back and that it would probably be a good idea if I let somebody in."

"And so you thought you'd start with the first person you pushed away," Laurel said derisively.

"I did that to protect you," Oliver protested. "And then I saw you yesterday, and I realized that I hurt you."

She opened the door begrudgingly.

He stepped inside and took in Laurel's (very red) apartment. "Wow, this place hasn't changed a bit in five years."

"Yeah, well I haven't really had time to redecorate," she said snidely.

"I'm a jerk," Oliver said, stopping Laurel in her tracks. She slowly turned around to face him. "Before the island, I was a jerk, and now I'm just… a damaged jerk."

Laurel took it in. "What's in the bag?"

Oliver swung the bag a bit. (He wasn't sure why he did it either.) "I thought about many things on the island, but there was one thing that I thought about every day. I actually dreamed about it, and I promised myself that if I ever got a chance to do it again, I'd do it with you."

Laurel had a better idea of what was in the bag, but what he took out of it was completely different from what she'd expected.

"Eat ice cream."

It brought the first smile to her face that Oliver had seen since he returned from the island, and to him it was worth a thousand "It should've been you"s.

* * *

He ended up telling her about everything his mom wanted for him, and even hinted a little at his nightly activities.

"You know, after five years, I have plans. I have things that I have to do. I can't do them if I'm… I don't know, attending board meetings and stockholder briefings."

Laurel decided to throw a novel idea out there. "Oliver? You're an adult.  _You can say no._ "

Oliver smiled ruefully. "Oh I tried. Didn't take."

Laurel shrugged. "Well then don't tell her, show her. Be the person you want her to see you as. Trust me, I have plenty of experience with disapproving parents."

That led to Laurel explaining why her father was so upset with Oliver. As it turned out, Detective Lance blamed himself more than he blamed the idiot who dragged his younger daughter out to sea. He'd thought that  _maybe_ , if he'd been closer to Sara, she would've told him about the trip, he would've stopped her and she would still be alive.

Oliver remembered something. "You know, Sophie said something to me the other day that might help. She told me that if we really tried, we'd find a way to blame everybody. Sara and me – for obvious reasons. But we could even say that it's your fault for freaking me out about moving in together, or that it's Sophie's for not being enough to make Sara stay."

Laurel looked indignant at this.

"Exactly, it sounds insane. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry, even though it'll never be enough."

Laurel nodded, wondering – "Wait, how did  _Sophie_  end up forgiving you?"

Oliver tried to think of a way to say it that wouldn't give anything away. "Well – " There was a noise in the fire escape. Grabbing the knife he'd used to cut out the ice cream from the tub, he said, "Come on. Come ON!"

Suddenly, two Chinese men entered the apartment carrying machine guns, one through the door and one through Laurel's bedroom window. Oliver saw an out, only to be stopped by a woman holding two knives. She had white-blond hair.

Oliver heard one of the men release the safety on his machine gun, only to be shot in the chest by…

Diggle, who entered the room and landed up in a tussle with the blond woman. Just as she had gotten the advantage of him and held the knife above his chest, Oliver threw his knife at hers, knocking it out of her grasp. Outnumbered, she fled.

Laurel ran into Oliver's arms, terrified. Diggle picked up his gun and looked around. "Are you hurt? Are you hurt, Mr. Queen?" he shouted.

"No. No!" Oliver called back.

"This is why it's a good idea to have a bodyguard," Diggle said, sirens already echoing in the background.

* * *

Laurel's protective detail didn't make it, unfortunately. When Detective Lance reached the scene, he had nothing but praise for Diggle's work. "Mr. Diggle, thank you. Feel free to run as many red lights in the city as you want."

"I was just doing my job, sir," Diggle responded gravely.

"No, your job is protecting him," Lance said, looking at Oliver. He walked up to him.

"It seems like whenever you're with one of my daughters, people die," Lance said, breathing heavily. "You stay away from Laurel, or I swear that the next time you disappear, it will be permanent."

Ignoring Laurel's outraged cry of "Dad!", Oliver said, "It's okay. I understand."

It wasn't Oliver's fault, and yet he still found a way to blame himself. If he hadn't threatened Martin and let him face court with the evidence Laurel had obtained,  _maybe_  he wouldn't have tried to get rid of her. Maybe those two cops would still be alive.

He decided he didn't have time to think like that. It was time to confront Somers once more.

* * *

Oliver was in the foundry, suiting up to confront Martin Somers. At that moment, Sophie entered, looking disheveled. "Oliver! I heard what happened at Laurel's. Are you okay?"

"Is that concern I hear?" Oliver asked.

She shrugged it off. "I'm getting better. Anyway – Digg called me and told me everything. Who were those people?"

Oliver looked at her for a moment before deciding to tell the truth. "I think they were the Chinese triad. They must have a hit out on Laurel."

Sophie nodded slowly. "Just so you know, you haven't convinced Digg it was just a lucky throw. Not one bit."

He shrugged. "Mr. Diggle's a smart guy. He's going to catch on eventually."

Sophie looked at him calculatingly. "Oliver, he stays out of it. End of discussion."

"He's not going to accept being in the dark forever," Oliver scoffed. "Some day, he will find out. What do you want me to do then, put him in a coma?"

"Fine, we'll address it when it comes," she said begrudgingly. "Right now, we've got work to do."

"We?"

"You wanted to give Martin Somers the chance to face a court's justice, but he chose to go after Laurel instead. If Sara were here, she'd want me to keep her safe. So I'm in."

Oliver nodded resolutely. "Good. He's still going to face justice. It'll just be a different kind."

* * *

Their first task was to get rid of the guy in charge of the boat. According to the man on the walkie-talkie they found next to the boatmaster, his name was Wallace.

"Wallace, you copy?"

"Wallace isn't here. But I am," Oliver said menacingly, sending Martin and his bodyguard into a frenzy.

The fight that ensued involved about a dozen men against the man in the hood and the Helmet.

Those twelve men didn't stand a chance.

When they were down to about two, Sophie said, "I'll finish up with these guys, you go after Somers."

Oliver nodded grimly, running after the man.

It didn't take the man in the hood long to catch up with Martin Somers. Under duress, Oliver successfully obtained a confession from Martin – that he'd ordered the triad to take out Victor Nocenti.

Oliver heard a noise and turned around, only to come face-to-face to the white-blond Chinese woman.

"遠離他"(Move away from him.)

"逼我"(Make me.)

They fought around the tank, her knife against his bow. They were evenly matched, and could have gone on longer, if not for the sound of sirens and, over a megaphone – "This is the police! Drop your weapons. You are surrounded. Come out with your hands on your head!"

Oliver made it all the way to the docks before - "Freeze! You twitch and you're dead."

Detective Lance trained his gun on the man in the hood. "Bow down, hands up."

Out of nowhere, there was a gunshot, and the bullet knocked Lance's gun out of his hand. The woman in the biker helmet ran towards the man in the hood, who shot an arrow that barely missed Lance, embedding itself in one of the giant shipping crates on the wharf.

By the time Lance turned around to face them, they were gone.

* * *

"I never asked," Sophie said casually as they put their weaponry away in the foundry, "what were you doing at Laurel's apartment in the first place?"

It took Oliver a while to figure out how to respond. "Thea. She… she wanted me to open up to someone."

Sophie shrugged. "Fair enough." Sometimes it was good to not give a crap.

"My mother wants me to take on responsibility at Queen Consolidated," he said, sitting on the edge of one of the tables.

"Oh yeah?" Sophie asked, eyebrows raised.

"I can't. Laurel was right: she told me that I have to be the person I need them to see me as."

Sophie grinned. "Poor Laurel. Something tells me she had a very different idea of who that person is going to be."

When Oliver showed up the next morning at the groundbreaking ceremony of Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences division, he was drunk. He referred to Walter as his "new dad" and effectively destroyed any hope Starling City had for him to be as good as his father.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

Martin Somers was arrested that very night. The arrow that Oliver had left behind played a recording of Martin's confession, forcing the DA to press charges. And while Laurel had no love lost for Oliver, she couldn't help but be thankful for the man in the hood.

Before he headed out the next night, Oliver made sure that his tombstone was taken down. He wasn't dead anymore. It was time to start accepting it.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this one! Fortunately, I managed to finish in two chapters instead of three.**

**This is what's going to happen from here on out: I will write as much as I can/feel like per day. Don't get mad if I don't post on some days.**

**Uni starts again in September – I won't be done by then – but hopefully I will finish before season 4 starts, at which point I will update once a week, as and when new episodes come out.**

**Favorite. Follow. Review.**

**Goodnight duckies.**


	6. Lone Gunmen, Part 1

 

It was just another day in the foundry.

Sophie had finally gotten over her fear of the salmon ladder and was busy working out. Oliver was looking up the next name on the list.

"James Holden," he called out as she jumped from the last rung of the ladder to the floor. Sophie picked up a towel and wiped the sweat off of her face.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"His corporation put out defective smoke detectors in low-income housing in the Glades."

Her eyes widened. "Well, that'd explain it. I've been dealing with quite a few fires lately, and haven't been as successful as I should've been."

They plotted out Oliver's next move.

Over the past two weeks, the two vigilantes had grown more comfortable with one another. Both were getting used to opening up to another person, and Oliver was making more of an effort to help Sophie out on days when he wasn't taking out one of Starling City's white collar criminals.

For that reason, Oliver finally felt it was safe enough to ask, "What is it that you do during the day?"

Sophie continued to stare at the monitor, but responded. "I have a day job. It's at Queen Consolidated, actually. ARGUS gave me some excellent fake letters of recommendation. I'm the new head of security."

He could sense that it wasn't the whole truth, but was willing to accept it for now.

"So, are you waiting by the police scanner tonight or do you want to help out this time?"

Sophie shook her head. "Now that I know about these smoke detectors, I'm going to have to be a lot more vigilant over the Glades. I'm going to patrol tonight."

Oliver nodded.

James Holder was a cancer. There had been too many fires, and too many funerals.

But cancers can be fought and conquered. All it takes is a surgeon… and the right instrument.

* * *

James Holder had been talking to one of his employees over the phone. He had an excellent rooftop – massive pool, plenty of lounge chairs, a beer in his hand.

He'd just hung up his phone and was about to take a swig of beer when an arrow shot it out of his hand. He made a noise of surprise, then turned, coming face to face with the man in the green hood.

"I have armed security inside, all I have to do is call out," James said (surprisingly calmly).

"Go ahead.  _They can't hear you_." Oliver dropped two guns at James' feet.

James' calm was shattered. "What the hell do you want?"

"How many people died in those fires?  _HOW MANY?_ The courts say you don't owe your victims anything. I disagree. James Holder, you – " Before Oliver could finish his sentence, a laser dot appeared on James' chest, and he was too slow to stop the bullet from reaching its target.

James' body fell in the swimming pool as Oliver blindly shot back at the sniper. A shard pierced his right upper arm.

Sophie was in for it when he got back to the lair.

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Oliver shouted. He'd just finished stitching himself up as Sophie entered the foundry.

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Saving my city?"

"You shot James Holder!"

"Wait, what?" Sophie looked genuinely confused.

"There was a sniper on the roof. James Holder is  _dead._ You're telling me that wasn't you?" Oliver said disbelievingly.

"Why would I do that? Killing him helps no one!" Sophie exclaimed.

Oliver just shook his head. Before he could press further, his vision started to blur and he found himself unable to stand upright.

"Oliver? What's happening?" Sophie asked cautiously.

"The bullet… poison…" was all he could get out before he collapsed by his trunk from the island. With shaking hands, he opened the lid and took out some herbs.

"Water," he croaked out. Sophie picked up the closest water bottle and handed it to him, uncapping it. He stuffed the herbs in his mouth and swallowed them along with some water.

Relieved, he passed out on the floor.

* * *

When he came to, Sophie was pacing back and forth. "What the hell just happened?" she asked, clearly freaked out.

Oliver appraised her carefully. "It really wasn't you, was it."

Sophie looked at him incredulously. "I'm not an idiot, Oliver. We needed him alive."

He nodded slowly.

"Anyway, we've got more important things to worry about right now. Your mom and Digg have been trying to reach you – Thea's in trouble. We've got to get you home,  _now_."

* * *

Home was tense. Thea had been caught breaking and entering into a dress store. His mother gave her a slap on the wrist and let her stay home from school.

It was things like that which had turned Oliver into the callous, irresponsible playboy he'd been before the island. He could've used less space and a little more parenting. He let his mother know as much before he returned to the foundry.

"So, are we going to talk about the complete lack of trust between us?" Sophie asked casually as he entered the lair.

He winced. "I'm sorry."

Sophie shook her head wordlessly.

Oliver took that as a sign to change the topic. "So what did you find out about the poison on the bullet?"

Turning to the computer, Sophie said, "Well, the bullets were laced with curare, a rare and deadly poison."

"Did you try looking for killers with that M.O. on government databases?"

"Yeah, he's killed all over the world. Interpol calls him Deadshot," Sophie said. "I knew who he was the second I found out it was curare." She hesitated. "Someone I know lost someone very close to him because of it."

Oliver clenched his jaw. "I was prepared to give Holder the chance to right his wrongs, but this Deadshot clearly has no morality, honor or code."

Sophie hummed in agreement.

"Is there a picture?" Oliver asked.

Sophie clicked on his Interpol file. "Not of his face. That could be anyone," she said. Looking closer at the screen, however, she added, "Although, something about him seems familiar."

Oliver frowned. "What?"

"I don't know," Sophie said slowly. "Let me look through some of my past cases with ARGUS, let you know. But whoever this guy is, he needs to be stopped, even if he's not on your list."

Oliver knew that Deadshot didn't kill for justice, which made him as dangerous as anybody on his list.

In fact, it put him right at the top.

* * *

Before he left the lair that night, Sophie reminded him that Diggle was getting a little too suspicious for his own good. They'd agreed to keep him out of it, but Oliver knew had to come up with some good reason for his regular excursions to his father's old factory.

Which was why, the next morning, he brought Tommy to the factory with Diggle in tow.

"So what do you think? Great spot for a nightclub or what?" Oliver said, his voice booming in the deserted room.

"Sweet. Though I gotta tell you man, if you're thinking about calling it Queens, I don't think you're gonna get the clientele you're hoping for," Tommy said mischievously.

"Private office," Oliver said, gesturing towards the back.

"For the private one-on-one meetings, I would imagine," Tommy said, winking.

"Hopefully the occasional two-on-one meeting," Oliver added, making Tommy laugh.

"Man, are you sure you want to do this? It's not like you really have any experience in running a… well, in running anything," Tommy said. Noticing the blank look on Oliver's face, he added, "How about tomorrow night, the two of us, we go out and scope out the competition. There's a new club opening downtown. It's called Poison. Max Fuller owns it."

Oliver recognized that name. "Max Fuller?"

"Mm-hmm."

Oliver didn't like where this was going. "I slept with his fiancée."

"Yeah, before the wedding," Tommy said, shrugging it off.

"It was at the rehearsal dinner," Oliver admitted reluctantly.

"The rehearsal dinner is technically before the wedding, right?" Tommy laughed, attempting to make light of it. Oliver forced a laugh of his own. "And besides, who stays mad at a castaway?" Tommy's phone rang, forcing him to cut the conversation short. Looking down at the screen, he said, "Ah, dammit, I gotta roll. See you."

As Tommy left the factory, Oliver turned to Diggle. "So… what do you think?"

"Well I'm here to provide security, sir, not a commentary," Diggle said monotonously.

"Oh, come on, Dig, do me a favor. Speak freely, please."

Diggle nodded, choosing his words carefully. "Well, this is the Glades, right? Your rich white friends wouldn't come to this neighborhood on a bet."

Oliver was confident otherwise. Diggle, however, had another bone to pick.

"No one in the Glades would actually see a penny of those cover charges."

Oliver had to admit he was right. "So we make it a successful business, we gentrify the neighborhood."

Diggle smiled knowingly. "I was wondering when we would get to that." To Oliver's unasked question, he responded, "The white knight swooping in to save the disenfranchised. And all by his lonesome with no help from anybody."

"Wow," Oliver exclaimed, feigning surprise. "You don't think very much of me, do you."

"No sir, I actually have a very high regard for how… perceptive, you are. Sir," said Diggle with the same knowing smile as he, too, left the factory.

Oliver was certain he couldn't possibly know that the nightclub would actually be conceal their base underneath it and provide an alibi for where Oliver Queen spends his nights.

* * *

"I found one of the bullets embedded in a wall. About 15 feet from the ground, I'd say," Oliver said, handing Sophie a bag as he entered the foundry. "Careful."

"So what, you just climbed up the wall and dug it out?" Sophie said, grinning.

From Oliver's lack of response, she figured she was right. "Uh… okay, I'm going to run ballistics and pretend I never asked."

It took her a few minutes to figure out that the bullet was a 7.62 mm round. "Oliver, you're not going to like this, but the money trail traces back to the Bratva."

Oliver smiled, catching Sophie off-guard. "Finally, some good luck."

"In what universe is  _the Russian mob_  good luck?" Sophie asked, scoffing.

He shrugged. "One where I'm a Bratva captain, I suppose," he said offhandedly.

Sophie shook her head slowly. "I guess ARGUS didn't tell me  _everything_  that happened to you on the island."

"And neither will I, so don't push it," Oliver snapped.

Sophie grit her teeth. "Look, I don't care if you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. But I do care when you accuse me – your only ally, by the way – of killing one of  _your_  marks." She got up and headed up the stairs out of the lair. "Have fun with the mob, by the way."

Oliver thought it could've gone over a lot worse.

* * *

Alexi Leonov, the Bratva man Oliver spoke to, said he did not know the man Oliver was looking for. However, he did agree to look into it.

At least it wasn't a complete dead end.

Later that night, a man named Carl Rassmussen turned up dead. His death fit all the perimeters of James Holden's assassination.

However, at the same time, Oliver was at Poison, having one of the worst nights of his life.

First, Thea had been there – clearly wasted, definitely underage – and said that he was  _barely_  her brother.

Then, thanks to same wasted sister, he discovered that Tommy and Laurel had been sleeping together while he was gone.

As if that weren't enough, Max Fuller and his guys took Oliver into a backroom and got into a fight with him – and Tommy, who foolishly decided to come to his aid. Laurel ended up having to step in, saving their asses, but she was clearly pissed off.

Finally, Diggle brought the two to Big Belly Burger, where Oliver met Diggle's sister-in-law, Carly.

"She's not wearing a wedding ring. Brother out of the picture?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," Diggle said, obviously troubled.

Oliver and Tommy sat down at a booth, where Tommy apologized and Oliver forgave him for sleeping with Laurel – after all, he  _had_  been dead. They were interrupted by a call on Oliver's phone (he told Tommy it was a Russian model, while in fact it was Alexi calling with information about Deadshot).

Tommy got up to give him some privacy, and Oliver held the phone back to his ear.

"So I checked out?"

"You did. His name is Floyd Lawton. I have address. Where he stayed last time, in Starling City."

Oliver was more focused on the first half of that statement. "What? Are you absolutely sure that's his name?"

"Positive. The Bratva does not make mistakes. You want address or not?"

"Let's hope he's a creature of habit. Go," Oliver said faintly, still reeling from the fact that their mystery sniper and Sophie shared the same last name.

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun dun. It'd been so long since I last saw season 1 and I'd completely forgotten that Floyd Lawton appears this early on in the show.**

**Hope you liked it. Favorite, Follow, Review.**


	7. Lone Gunmen, Part 2

Oliver entered the Foundry, still in a daze. Sophie was already there, watching the news. "Our sniper struck again. He killed Tom Rasmussen. You'll never guess what he has in common with James Holder. They're both – " She finally saw the expression on Oliver's face. "You look weird."

Oliver shook his head. "What do they have in common?"

Sophie continued. "They're both competing to buy Unidac Industries. It looks like Deadshot's targeting the competition, which means the person who hired him is probably also bidding in the auction."

"Yeah, okay," Oliver said distractedly.

Either she didn't notice, or didn't want to push. "So did any leads turn up?"

He knew it was her roundabout way of asking how the meeting with the Bratva had gone. "I have an address. I'm going to check it out."

Sophie nodded. "I'll come with you."

 _No,_  Oliver thought frantically. "I can handle it."

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Still don't trust me?"

Right then, Oliver didn't know  _what_  to think. "I do, it's just that I'd rather handle it myself."

Sophie looked at him searchingly. Apparently finding nothing, she sighed. "Fine, whatever you want, Oliver."

He hated lying to her. She was supposed to be able to  _trust_  him. He just didn't know how to tell her that someone she was related to – maybe even close to – was a killer for hire.

* * *

Floyd Lawton had escaped from his apartment before Oliver could confront him. Fortunately, he'd left behind his laptop – which was bullet-ridden.

So the next day, he took the laptop over to Queen Consolidated. When he got in the elevator, he noticed that Sophie was already there.

"Hey, what're you doing here?" she asked, clearly surprised to see Oliver anywhere near his father's company.

"I have a laptop situation," he said as vaguely as possible.

"Ah. Does it belong to our friend?" she asked knowingly.

He nodded. Before he could say anything else, the elevator doors reopened on the IT floor.

"Let me know what you find," Sophie said as he got out.

Oliver was referred to a woman named Felicity Smoak.

She was preoccupied when he entered the room her cubicle was in.

He cleared his throat. "Felicity Smoak?"

She had been chewing on her pen, which she pulled out of her mouth when she saw him. Her eyes immediately widened.

"Hi. I'm Oliver Queen."

"Of course. I know who you are, you're Mr. Queen," she said, smiling.

"No, Mr. Queen was my father," Oliver responded.

Felicity nodded in agreement. "Right, but, he's dead. I mean, he drowned. But you didn't, which means you could come down to the I.T. Department and listen to me babble. Which will end. In 3… 2… 1."

Oliver couldn't contain the natural grin that spread over his face. "I'm having some trouble with my computer and they told me that you were the person to come and see." He placed the Floyd's laptop on her desk.

Then came the excuse he'd rehearsed. "I was at my coffee shop surfing the web and I spilled a latte on it."

"Really?" Felicity said, clearly not buying it.

"Yeah," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask too many questions.

"'Cause these look like bullet holes."

"My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood," Oliver responded quickly.

She tilted her head to the side, as if asking,  _is that the best you can do_?

Another smile spread across his face. "If there is anything you could salvage from it, I would really appreciate it."

Clearly caught off-guard by his sincerity, Felicity couldn't help but agree.

* * *

"Hey Oliver, I've been trying to find Walter all morning to discuss the security arrangements for tonight – oh, hello."

Sophie had just entered the office she'd been told Oliver was in, but what she saw surprised her.

There was a blonde girl sitting at her desk, gesturing animatedly at Oliver, who looked utterly confused.

"Hi," the girl said, looking surprised.

Sophie held her hand out for the girl to shake. "Hi, I'm Sophie –"

"Lawton, I know. You're the head of security for Queen Consolidated. Which is surprising, because you don't look like you could take an attacker down. Not that you couldn't if you wanted to, I'm sure you're strong, you're just really pretty and I will stop talking in 3… 2… 1. Hi, I'm Felicity Smoak," the girl said, blushing lightly.

Sophie smiled widely. So far, she liked Felicity Smoak.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Felicity was just telling me how the laptop belongs to Warren Patel."

Sophie frowned. "Warren Patel?" Sophie had seen him around Starling City a few times and knew there was no way he could be the sniper.

Felicity nodded. "Warren Patel is competing against Mr. Steele to buy Unidac Industries. I'd just mentioned how Shakespearean it was."

Sophie smiled. "I'm afraid Oliver didn't study a word of Shakespeare at any of the four schools he dropped out of," she said, teasing.

Before it could go any further, Oliver cleared his throat. "Thanks for all your help, Felicity. Sophie, let's discuss the matter of Walter's safety in your office." He left as quickly as he could.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry he's so awkward."

Felicity smiled. "That's alright. Uh, I guess I'll see you around then?"

It was phrased as a statement, but sounded more like a question.

"You will," Sophie said, grinning as she left.

Oliver was waiting for her outside. "The auction's happening at the exchange building. It's surrounded by three towers with eyelines into the building."

Sophie groaned. "No, that means Deadshot could get a kill shot off from anywhere."

Oliver nodded grimly. "I can't do this alone, Sophie."

"Hey," she said, pulling to a stop. "I know we've got some unresolved issues right, but there are too many lives at risk. I'm in."

"Thanks, but I had something else in mind."

* * *

The man in the green hood paid Detective Lance a visit that evening, convincing him that Deadshot was going to target the auction.

That night, the police immediately pulled Warren Patel aside. Oliver was glad; he'd been worried that Lance would ignore the man in the hood's warning.

Light jazz music was playing as Oliver walked into the exchange building, Sophie on his arm.

"Let's see if we make it past Lance," Sophie muttered. That was not to be the case – Detective Lance walked up to them as soon as he noticed they were there.

"Well, don't you scrub up nice," Lance said angrily.

"Here to support my family," Oliver said pleasantly.

"Yeah, me too, God help me." Turning to Sophie, he added, "I thought you were smarter than this. Remember the last time you trusted him?"

Sophie smiled softly. "It's okay, Mr. Lance. I don't quite trust him completely yet."

Lance looked satisfied with her answer. As he was about to walk away, Oliver said, "Thank you."

Lance scoffed and left.

Their next stop was Diggle. "Hey Dig," Sophie said, smiling. "This one giving you too much trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, winking at her.

"Dig, got your eyes open?" Oliver asked.

"That's what I'm here for, sir. That and answering patronizing questions."

Oliver ignored the sarcasm. "This guy's out of time. If he's gonna do something, it's going to happen before the auction."

Sophie stared.

Diggle was confused. "Sir?"

Oliver, realizing mistake, added, "I heard the story on the radio."

Turning to Sophie, Diggle mouthed,  _the radio_?

She grinned.

Walter Steele chose that moment to greet them. "Oliver, Sophie, so pleased you could attend."

Oliver nodded at Diggle and Sophie. Walking up to Walter, he said, "Walter, the police said that some of the Unidac bidders were murdered. I just think that we should be a little bit more careful. My mother's already lost a husband."

"Well, if Moira shared your concern, she wouldn't have come. And she  _definitely_  wouldn't have brought your sister," he replied, gesturing towards Thea.

Oliver turned around, looking at Sophie wordlessly. She nodded, starting to walk in Thea's direction. Oliver met her there.

"Hi," he said, touching his mother's shoulder.

"Oliver, what a wonderful surprise."

Gesturing at Diggle, he said, "I need you two to get them out of here right now."

Right then, a bullet headed toward Walter. Detective Lance, noticing just in time, managed to push Walter out of the way. Instead, it hit one of the waiters.

The room erupted into chaos, bullets being shot every second. Diggle shielded Moira as Oliver grabbed Thea and pulled her to the side. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine, where's Walter?" Moira responded.

Seeing that Walter was being shielded by Detective Lance, Oliver said, "Walter's fine."

"Sir, I have to get you out of here," Diggle said urgently.

"No, them! Them," Oliver said firmly.

"It's okay, Dig, I'll go after him," Sophie said quickly.

Diggle had no choice but to comply.

Oliver and Sophie raced up the stairs. Oliver quickly opened a trash can on the stairwell, taking out duffle bag which contained their gear.

"My helmet's at the bottom of that trash can," Sophie said, pulling on her leather jacket and pants.

He tossed it to her. "Sophie, I need you to get everyone else to safety."

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "What about Deadshot?"

"I can handle him myself," Oliver said urgently.

He could not let her find out his true identity.

Sophie agreed reluctantly, heading back downstairs. Oliver continued to make his way up the stairs.

Oliver quickly entered the place where Floyd was shooting from. A battle ensued, where Oliver had the upper hand, physically. On the other hand, Floyd had a gun strapped to his hand that was proving to be dangerous.

Oliver got behind a pillar for defense. "Drop your guns."

"I admire your work," Deadshot said. "Guess you won't be extending me any professional courtesy."

"We're not in the same line of work. Your profession is murder."

"You've taken lives," Deadshot pointed out.

"For the good of others. You're out for yourself."

Deadshot apparently decided it was time to stop talking. He shot at the pillar. When he stopped to reload, Oliver emerged from behind the pillar and shot him in his eyepiece.

He fell to the ground and remained still.

Assuming he was dead, Oliver turned around, only to see Diggle behind him. He had been shot.

Oliver carried Diggle over his shoulder. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Sophie was waiting. "Oliver, what happened?"

"Deadshot's dead. He got Dig in the arm first. We have to get back to the foundry – those bullets were laced with curare."

He didn't think he'd ever seen her so worried in his life.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's it for episode 3. The next one beckons!**

**As always – Favorite, follow, review.**


	8. An Innocent Man, Part 1

When Diggle came to, he was lying on a table. Straightening up, his vision cleared, only to be faced with Oliver still in his gear.

"Hey," Oliver said.

Diggle stood up, shocked. "Oliver?"

Oliver nodded.

"You're that vigilante."

Oliver nodded again.

Diggle swung at him, but Oliver was too fast. He managed to restrain Diggle before he could hurt himself any further.

"Easy Dig. You were poisoned."

"Son of a bitch!"

It took a while to calm Dig down.

"I could've taken you anywhere. I could have taken you home. I brought you here."

"Even though that was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do." A disgruntled Sophie walked down the stairs.

Diggle took a double take. "You're in on this?"

"I'm the one they call 'the Helmet'," Sophie said with thinly veiled disgust.

Diggle shook his head. "Are you two crazy?"

Sophie and Oliver looked at each other.

"Starling City is dying. It is being poisoned by a criminal elite who don't care who they hurt, as long as they maintain their power," Oliver explained.

"So what, it's just the two of you against the world?" Diggle fired back.

Sophie and Oliver looked uncomfortable. "We want you to join us, Dig," Sophie said quietly.

"Special forces out of Kandahar, it's perfect," Oliver added. "You're a fellow soldier."

"Oliver, you're not a soldier," Diggle said forcefully. "And Sophie, you lost any right to call yourself one when you two became criminals and murderers."

Diggle hobbled up the stairs, refusing any offers of assistance from either vigilante.

Sophie sat down and shrugged. "It's all good. He'll get over it."

Oliver stared, shocked. "Did you hear what he just said?"

"Yeah," Sophie said. "It's not that big a deal. I don't get why he's so upset about it."

Oliver shook his head in disbelief. "Sophie. The man who has looked out for you for the past three years just found out you're a vigilante and wants nothing to do with you. And that's no big deal?"

Sophie was confused. "But he'll get over it, right? So why should it bother me?"

Oliver spluttered. "He called you a murderer. He called  _us_  murderers."

Sophie gave him an odd look. "We're not murderers. The people we kill fight back."

That was the first time Oliver had heard her talk like this since his return from the island.

Then, like a flood, several other instances of this disconnected behavior entered his mind. Sure, she seemed to worry about Thea – but only because of how much she reminded her of Sara. And yes, she did care about Oliver himself, to a certain extent.

On the other hand, she almost completely lacked compassion for everybody else – from what he could tell. He knew that she was invested in saving the Glades out of a sense of justice and righteousness. However, he couldn't remember if she'd ever talked about the people she'd helped – to her, it was all about preventing crime. Apart from a select few, people were irrelevant to her.

And that thought worried him more than another round with Deadshot.

* * *

Oliver had to admit, once he reached home, that Sophie had been rubbing off on him a bit.

This realization was brought on by the massive lecture Laurel (who'd just happened to be there already) had given him as he walked up the stairs. She'd told him how selfish he'd been for not even calling Thea and Moira, both of whom had been worried sick after the fiasco at the auction.

"I care about the lives of other people, Oliver," Laurel said as she turned to leave, "maybe you should try it sometime."

Thea walked up to him as the door shut. "That was harsh. You okay?"

"Sure," Oliver said unconvincingly. "Second time tonight that a friend of mine has taken me to the woodshed. Kinda tires you out."

He didn't want to add that he was starting to worry that his partner was becoming a psychopath.

That night, however, he was haunted by dreams – dreams of the island, of Laurel, of Sophie's face after a night in freshman year.

After that last dream, he'd woken up in a cold sweat.

He needed a distraction. Pulling on a robe, he walked downstairs, only to find Thea watching news footage of the case against Peter Declan, a man accused of killing his wife.

Sitting down on the sofa, Oliver listened as Thea explained the case to him.

"So why can't you sleep?" Thea asked, muting the television.

"Bad dreams," Oliver said, shaking his head.

"About?"

"Laurel," he replied, deciding to go with the easiest of the three.

"So why don't you make a play?" Thea said, smirking lightly. "I mean, she did come over here  _just_  to make sure you didn't get shot."

"There are reasons," Oliver said vaguely.

"Mm, what are they? Besides you sleeping with her sister and her sister dying and her father hating your guts and you basically being a jerk to  _everybody_  since you've been back?" Thea asked sarcastically.

"Those are the top ones," he said, nodding.

Thea snickered. "Well, Sophie forgave you. I mean, you hurt her just as badly and she actually came with you to the auction last night."

Oliver realized that he had to somehow break his cycle of pushing Thea away. "I know that it may not seem like it sometimes, but… I'm not the same person I used to be. While Laurel isn't ready to accept that yet, Sophie has."

Thea shrugged. "So show her. Be yourself. I mean, your  _new_  self."

Oliver had to admit that his little sister had a point.

* * *

Oliver woke up the next morning with a sense of purpose, only to be faced with the sight of a bodyguard who was decidedly  _not_  Diggle.

As Rob Scott introduced himself as Oliver's new "bodyman", Oliver immediately knew that it would be only too easy to escape this one.

"Oh, thank goodness we don't have to hear about that  _awful_  man anymore," Moira said, staring at the television.

Oliver frowned, unmuting the TV and increasing the volume.

"Declan's execution is set for two days from now," the announcer said. "Camille Declan's former employer, Jason Brodeur, released a statement saying, quote, 'I hope this gives Camille the peace she deserves.'"

"Jason Brodeur?" Oliver asked faintly.

"What?" Moira asked, confused.

"The… dead wife worked for Jason Brodeur," Oliver stated slowly.

"Apparently so, what – why?" Moira asked.

"No reason," Oliver said abruptly, hoping she'd let it go. Turning to his new 'bodyman', Oliver said, "Say, Rob, I want to go into town. Could you please get the car for me?"

"No offense, Mr. Queen, but I have been filled in on your tendency to slip the leash. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to keep you in my sights at all times."

Poor Rob. Five minutes later, as Rob waited by the car, a man whizzed past him on a motorcycle, waving as he sped off.

When he realized it was his client, he almost wet his pants.

* * *

Oliver hadn't been sure Sophie would go for the

"All the evidence points towards Peter Declan murdering his wife in cold blood," Sophie said, leaning back on one of the tables. "He had no alibi. He was tried, convicted and sentenced to death. It's open-and-shut, Oliver."

Oliver shook his head. "Except for one thing. Declan's wife worked for Jason Brodeur."

Sophie nodded slowly. "And…?"

"Well, he's on the list," Oliver said pointedly.

"So let me get this straight," Sophie said, incredulously. "If someone's on the list, then every time someone in their employ is killed, they're automatically guilty? Even when the evidence points elsewhere?"

Oliver simply nodded. "The odds are good that Brodeur's involved in her murder."

"But we don't know that. We'll have to examine all the evidence and find something,  _anything_ , that points to Brodeur. We don't have access to that stuff," Sophie said. "Besides, it sounds like a lot of work for something we have no idea he's involved with."

Oliver stared, eyebrows raised. "An innocent man could be going to jail, Sophie! And you're worried about the  _work_  we'll have to put into it?"

"Whoa," she said, backing away slowly. "Oliver, I'm just being realistic. We don't have much time. Forty-eight hours isn't a lot. We're going to have to break into an evidence locker  _just_  to see if any of it points at Brodeur. If it had, wouldn't the defense attorney in Declan's case have used it?"

Oliver was starting to wish he'd never brought it up. "Peter Declan said that his wife was planning on blowing the whistle on the fact that Brodeur's company was dumping toxic waste into the Glades."

She snorted. "Well obviously, the jury didn't buy it."

Oliver shrugged. "So we'll find something more concrete, then."

"Oliver," she said, exasperated. "We're not capable of pulling this off on our own. Assuming we find  _anything else_  before Declan's execution – and that's a massive hypothetical – what do we do, turn it in to  _the same people who ignored it_  and say 'Hey, look what we found that  _you've already seen_ '?"

"Realism isn't everything," Oliver snapped. "This is a good hunch, Sophie."

Sophie just shook her head. "No, Oliver, it's not. This is you, assuming that the people on your list are responsible for all the crimes in Starling City. And guess what? That's not true. There are so many wrongs being done by smaller criminals and people like Declan that you just  _ignore_  because it's not important enough for you."

"That's not true," Oliver said, stung.

"It is," Sophie said, laughing mirthlessly. "Let me guess. After you're done with all the names on your father's list, you're going to go back to your cushy life in the Queen mansion and pretend that it's all over, that Starling City is safe and free of crime. Well, I can't. So excuse me if I choose to spend my time focusing on criminals that I can verify are, in fact, criminals."

Oliver sat back, stunned.

Sophie just turned back to the computer. "At most, I'll check into this toxic waste situation. But that is it. You're on your own for this one."

Oliver clenched his jaw, stood up and grabbed his gear. He didn't have time to fight with her over her skewed sense of morality just then. Peter Declan had less than two days to escape execution. He was going to need a damn good lawyer.

If Sophie wouldn't help him, he'd have to get help elsewhere.

It was time for the man in the green hood to pay a visit to one Laurel Lance.

* * *

Oliver hoped that Laurel had been convinced by his speech about Peter Declan's innocence. He'd have to wait to see if she'd look into the murder.

Until then, it was time to start making amends, starting with Diggle.

It didn't take him long to figure out that he'd be sitting in the Big Belly Burger.

"I noticed a distinct lack of police cars when I got home," Oliver said, sliding into the booth across from Diggle. "I knew you wouldn't drop a dime on me. So, have you considered my offer?"

"Offer?" Diggle scoffed. "That's one hell of a way to put it."

Oliver had no choice but to show him the list. "This was my father's," he said, placing the notebook in front of Diggle on the table. Diggle thumbed through the book. "He gave it to me right before he died."

Diggle paused. "I thought you said he died when the boat went down."

"I lied. We both made it to a life raft but there wasn't enough food and water for both of us, so he shot himself in the head."

Diggle was taken aback.

"And as much as he was doing it to give me a chance to survive," Oliver said, delving further into his unpleasant memories, "I believe that he was also atoning for his sins. I need to right the wrongs done by my family, and I'm offering you the chance to right the wrongs done to yours."

"Oliver, what are you talking about?" Diggle asked, confused.

"The police never caught your brother's shooter," Oliver said. "The bullets were laced with curare. That's Deadshot's M.O. He is the sniper that I stopped."

"You're telling me you took down Andy's killer?" Diggle asked, eyes wide.

"I'm giving you a chance to hel p other people's families. Do you remember when the people in this city helped each other? They can't do that anymore, because a group of people, people like  _my father_ , see nothing wrong with raising themselves up by stepping on other people's throats. This needs to stop, and if it's not gonna be the courts, and if it's not gonna be the cops… then it's gonna be me. And, I hope, you."

Diggle looked less enraged than he had before. "And how does Sophie play into all of this?"

Oliver chose his words carefully. "She… has her own mission. She's trying to save the Glades."

Diggle smirked, traces of fondness appearing on his face. "That girl always aimed way too high."

Oliver scoffed. "Yeah, not anymore."

Diggle looked confused, but didn't press on.

Oliver decided it was time to leave. He signaled Rob.

Diggle cleared his throat as he stood up. "Andy's killer was Deadshot? What, no real name?"

Oliver hesitated, knowing his next words could affect more lives than that of the one in front of him. "He has a name. It's… Floyd."

"Floyd…"

Oliver sighed. "Lawton."

Diggle's face looked like it didn't know what to do anymore. "Does she know?"

Oliver shook his head wordlessly.

Diggle nodded slowly. "Good. She never will. That girl's had too much go wrong with her life to have to deal with this kind of guilt eating away at her."

Oliver snorted. "Believe me Digg, the way she is these days, guilt is the last thing she'd feel. Rob," he said, as the man walked up to him, "I need to go to the washroom." He stood up and walked in the direction of the restrooms.

Rob stood nervously, barely smiling as he nodded at Diggle.

After a beat, Diggle said, "Oh, that boy's long gone, man."

Rob had never run so fast in his life.

* * *

**A/N: I feel like one of the interesting things with this chapter is that Sophie's callousness is forcing Oliver to be a better person.**

**As always, Favorite, Follow, Review.**

**I may not do another chapter before I go to sleep. We'll see.**


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